


Death of Light In A Forest Clearing

by prestissimo



Series: Lost Entries from the Daily Ledger of Nicolas de Lenfent [2]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 00:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prestissimo/pseuds/prestissimo
Summary: When he was a boy, Nicolas went riding in the countryside and realized he was depressed when he stopped in a beautiful glade of light.





	Death of Light In A Forest Clearing

I awoke early this morning and went to Mssr. Sabot’s stable to ready my mare. Her name is Colère and Papa hates her, but she wickers in excitement at the sight of me and we have been each other’s since I was old enough to ride a full-grown horse.

I had only the little bundle I prepared, some cheese, some bread, even a little wine. It was early enough that it was still cold, and I tried to be quiet whilst I unlocked the gate with the rough key Mde. Sabot had given me.

“What bedevils my horses?” roared M. Sabot, startling all the horses in the warm, cozy stable and upsetting my plans.

“Bonjour, Monsieur. Are you well? My apologies for the hour. I am going out with Colère,” I said evenly, my hand steady on her gate. She was mine, and he only lent the stable out to me. I fed and cleaned and watered her and her space every day, among my other duties. A good horse rider takes care of his horse and oils the tack. He respects his partner in the endeavor of movement.

“Eh?” He asked muzzily, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Oh, pardons, M. de Lenfent. My, you are tall now, aren’t you? Good heavens. You’re not running away, are you?”

And I swear upon my mother’s grave, the thought had never occurred to me until he said it. I tilted my head at him and smiled slyly, as if teasingly coy, and he shook his head and called back through the door.

“It’s all right, Marie, it’s only the draper’s boy. Stall 3.” As he went back through the door, I realized I’d never heard his wife’s Christian name before, nor thought of them as two people who had joined in holy matrimony.

“Little Nicki? What a sweet boy,” I heard her say, and it stiffened my back as the door shut, leaving me alone with the soft sounds of huge beasts snuffling and patiently knocking their hooves against the ground.

They call me sweet. They call me well-mannered, polite, a little gentleman. In return, I do not look beyond their lives or learn their Christian names. We are at the mercy of the Lord, after all. What have I to concern myself with when I have been a dutiful son and a loyal brother?

And yet, I felt as if she had spoken some great lie about me, and this feeling would not be shaken off. Colère behaved as usual, occasionally nosing my shoulder or hand, looking for sugar or treats. I’m not “Little Nicki” any longer, and I haven’t been for years. Adélaïde says I am finished with growing, but she only means my height.

I took Colère off the well-trodden paths and roads and into the wilderness of the country and the mountains. The sun slowly followed, inching up until it overtook us and set the forest aflame with red and orange. For a single moment everything flared to life and froze. I stopped breathing. There was something painful and beautiful happening inside me, and I didn’t know what to do with it. In the forest, only my mare to find me, I felt suddenly so alone.

I dismounted and crumpled to the ground, uncaring of the leaves and the dirt, and I began to weep. Brokenheartedly. Like a child.

What brought this on? I am not an unhappy creature. I love my family. I love God. I love…nothing. The forest was so full of life and I felt absolutely nothing. My soul was dead.

If I speak to Father Deroux, perhaps he can guide me back from despair. Until then, wine and cheese and solitude.

 

_– N. de Lenfent_


End file.
